


Sort Of

by gokkyun



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 20:53:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7522741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gokkyun/pseuds/gokkyun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reyes and Morrison seem to be very good friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sort Of

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a rather short time because it was supposed to be a joke leaning on a conversation I had with someone on WA about Reinhardt being all "They seem to be very good friends" buT it somehow turned into something serious and a take on how Jack's & Gabriel's relationship during OW looks like from the outside. 
> 
> Just ... read it. I guess. Enjoy & comments/critique/kudos as always appreciated.

The early days of Overwatch are something else entirely, even to a man like Reinhardt Wilhelm, experienced in both battle and life. 

Forced to life as response to the Omnic Crisis and by the United Nations, Overwatch is a small group with the goal of bringing the best and brightest men and women from all around the globe together, an organization as diverse as it can be. These people's goals, however, is to defeat the omnics. Sounds easy enough for a group of battle-hardened soldiers and geniuses, one might think, yet every country and its military, no matter how powerful and well-equipped, has been unsuccessful in accomplishing the seemingly impossible of destroying the countless malicious robots and put an end to their war against the human race. 

Honored and swift to answer Overwatch's offer of joining them, Reinhardt is surprised but thrilled to find a man much younger than him in charge of the field operations. When he hears the man's name his surprise fades though, having heard stories about his new commander from his friends in the US military. They told him how a man known to most only by the name of Reyes earned absurd amounts of respect and high decorations as well as a veteran status at a ridiculously young age. Among others, there was also a rumor that a lot of his success stemmed from his time in a secret and controversial program to enhance soldiers through questionable methods, lead by the United States government.

Whether it may be the truth or not, Reinhardt doesn't really care. What he cares about is the man himself, Reyes, and how suited he is to lead the differing people currently forming Overwatch into glory. 

It doesn't take Reinhardt more than a handful of successfully completed missions to find out a couple of things about Reyes. The man is as stubborn as a mule but always cold and collected, ruthless almost, using every opportunity given to him by the omnics, no matter how small it is, to accomplish victory. However favorable these traits may be in a war as unforgiving as this one, Reinhardt has issues with Reyes' lack of empathy and his aforementioned stubbornness, as he never backs away from his plans and opinions once they're settled; even if the team disagrees. 

That is until a carefully hand appears on Reyes' shoulder or on his back, the hand of the man that seems to constantly be at his side, be it during combat, during mission briefings or during off times. Said man and Reyes trade glances then, sometimes for longer, sometimes for mere seconds, as if an obvious yet to everyone else silent discussion goes on between them. It's one of the rare times that Reyes' stern expression softens up, even if just for the slightest bit, and then he reconsiders. 

The other man has known Reyes for years, as he tells Reinhardt, tells him not to take Gabriel's rough attitude to heart because he means well – in his very own ways. The blond man is even younger than Reyes and his complete opposite, supportive and kind. His name is John Morrison, or Jack, as he's offered Reinhardt to call him with a sincere smile. A smile that Jack gifts the group's members with every once in a while, except Reyes, who constantly sees it as the two men are literally inseparable. They have the other's back on missions and complement each other in regards of tactics during mission briefings, a synergy incomparable like any other that Reinhardt has seen before, between two men as different as they can be no less. Reinhardt soon wonders why. 

He finds an answer during one of their missions. An answer he wasn't expecting. Not in this way. 

A long-drawn yawn escapes Reinhardt's mouth as he attempts to open his remaining eye, once, twice, thrice, before it finally stays open, even though half-lidded. The almost silent engine of a military standard transport helicopter immediately fills his ear as well as soft snoring. Looking to his sides, Reinhardt finds that the small man and ingenious engineer Torbjörn Lindholm and the team's finest sniper Ana Amari are sleeping on either side of him, resting against his shoulder and his arm. 

With a soft smile, Reinhardt makes sure not to move or shuffle around too much, his Crusader armor providing a not necessarily soft but at least safe sleeping spot for the two Overwatch members during the flight. They've just finished a mission in rural Russia, the country that has been plagued by the omnics for the longest. The frequency and seriousness of the robot's attacks have gotten a lot worse in the past weeks and the team barely has time for proper rest anymore. It feels like the war is coming to an end on some days or as if it has only just begun on others. 

At least everyone got out this time. The five of them, forming the first strike team, as well as the secondary strike team in another helicopter, formed by new recruits and lead by another senior member called Liao. A content sigh leaves Reinhardt's mouth right before his eyes travel to the seats on the opposite site of the helicopter. Sitting there are Morrison and Reyes, wide awake and gazing at each other. Jack's mouth forms a soft pout. “It's not fair,” he states as his bare hand reaches out and presses against Gabriel's cheek. Reinhardt wonders for a second there that Gabriel doesn't seem to mind at all, even leans into the oddly intimate seeming touch. “You don't have time to shave for two weeks and grow a full beard on accident. And then there's me, with my three blond stubbles grown over five weeks that no one sees anyways.”

A chuckle is Reyes' reply, something Reinhardt has never purposely heard coming from the man. “I think it's quite adorable, guapéton. A beard doesn't belong in your pretty face anyways.”

The pout on Jack's face grows, accompanied by a deep frown. His expression doesn't fit the motion of his thumb though, rubbing gentle circles into Gabriel's cheek, coarse and unruly short hairs covering it. “When did you start calling me these things in front of others?”

“They're asleep,” Gabriel shrugs carelessly. “Torby over there is snoring like a goddamn motorboat if you haven't noticed.”

“Torby?”

“He offered me to call him that. Said his friends were allowed to call him Torby.”

“How adorable, amado,” Jack replies and releases a suppressed laughter. 

With a roll of his eyes but a lopsided smirk, Gabriel sighs. “Should've never started teaching you Spanish.”

“Yeah, could've done so many other things with that cocky mouth of yours instead.” Not quite giving Jack's last words a thought, Reinhardt watches as the man's hand moves and travels to the side of Gabriel's head. Jack's blue eyes are soft as his gentle fingers play and intertwine in the thick and messy curls of ebony brown hair. “Your hair has grown, too. I know you don't like it when I call you cute, but you really are with it like this.”

Reyes huffs but the edges of his lips are pulled upwards, a genuine smile establishing under the cover of his sloppy goatee. His gloved hand leads Jack's ungloved one out of his hair but he holds onto it, as if he's found a small treasure. Neither of the two men seems to mind, Reinhardt notices, rather the opposite. They hold gazes and even from a meter or two away he can feel that something familiar and comforting lies in the touch Reyes and Morrison are sharing, simple as it may be.

“I can't wait to get back to base and get you ou-“ Reyes' words are interrupted by an unusual shake that goes through the whole helicopter; the shaking doesn't cease though and Torbjörn and Ana wake up next to Reinhardt, startled. 

“What the hell's going on?!” Ana is the first to ask. 

Reinhardt's eye shifts back to Reyes and Morrison, hands back on themselves. “Turbulences? Maybe even an enemy attack?” Gabriel throws his best guesses into the air as he unfastens his seatbelt, stumbling through the unsteady machine and towards the cockpit.

“You're making a chicken out of a feather again,” Torbjörn snorts. 

Unfortunately he's wrong and it all happens too fast, way too fast. Reyes' eyes widen, involuntarily so if Reinhardt had to guess, as the pilot explains that their engines have been hit by rockets. Rockets that are just as invisible on the radar as their attackers, even though it was most likely the work of advanced omnics. Reinhardt knows just as well as his comrades that a direct attack on them was bound to happen, yet he can't stop mild panic from spreading through his stomach. It doesn't get any better when all of them are forced to strap on their parachutes, getting ready to jump off the by now burning bird. The pilot is muttering silent prayers while Torbjörn curses under his thick beard. 

The deafening sound of the machine crashing into a nearby mountain fills Reinhardt's ears as his feet settle safely onto the ground and he can still feel his heart pounding against his chest. A deep breath that helps him gain back his composure leaves his mouth and he takes a look around; they're in a valley, surrounded by nothing but tall mountains and layers of snow. The moderately young pilot is next to Reinhardt, already busy radioing the secondary team's pilot for an immediate pick-up. Ana is there too and she giggles lightly while pointing down to Reinhardt's feet, Torbjörn kicking his lower leg to catch his attention. 

All of them flinch into an alerted state as shots suddenly echo through the until now silent valley; without thinking twice or establishing eye contact the group of four rushes towards the direction the shots still sound from. Smoke from the crashing site slowly but certainly fills the air as well as the smell of ash and fire. A deep but muffled scream and an another but much smaller explosion is heard before silence overtakes again. 

The group arrives – maybe too late, Reinhardt isn't sure yet. It takes him hardly a minute to take in what unfolded here, the scrapped metal and other remains of omnics scattered across the ground – most likely the units that attacked the helicopter in the first place. But the robots aren't of concern, not anymore at least. Of concern are Morrison and Reyes, the first kneeling while the latter is lying on the ground, white snow beneath him slowly but certainly gaining a crimson color. Gabriel's breathing is heavy and unsteady, his bloodied hands pressing against his side, which is leaking blood furiously. 

Jack's hands are covered in blood as well, desperately holding onto Gabriel's face. “No no no, Gabe, stay with me,” he whispers, pleads, his torn and breathless voice shaking almost as violently as his body. Both of them are pale even though for different reasons, Jack's wide blue eyes glued to Gabriel's dark eyes that are fluttering close and back open, trying to remain conscious, trying to stay with Jack. He fails. Silent words leave Jack's mouth, incoherent and with little to no sense. 

On impulse, Reinhardt kneels next to Jack, tries to catch the other's eyes, his attention, anything to make him snap out of his trance-like condition. But it's futile, the younger man's face painted with sheer terror and blind panic, frozen in place, even when Reinhardt's hand is on his shoulder, shaking him. “Jack, we have to get him of out the cold. Jack? Can you hear me? Jack? Jack?”

“Jack?” Reinhardt says yet again; gentle hand back on the younger man's shoulder. And for the first time in four hours Jack reacts, flinches at the soft touch as if it hurt him and gazes up to Reinhardt. His blue eyes seem lost, dark purple circles slowly becoming visible on his fair skin and under the unforgiving bright light of the Russian hospital. It's just the two of them, Ana, Torbjörn and Liao making sure that the secondary strike team returned safely to their temporary base of operations in Moscow. Reinhardt on the other hand insisted to stick with Jack, who refused to leave Gabriel's side under further incomprehensible mumbling. And it's probably for the best, Jack absent-minded and unapproachable until now. 

“Are they done?” Jack finally asks, swallowing hard. His voice sounds painfully dry. 

“Not yet, I'm afraid. But almost. There are a lot of splinters in him. It's a mess,” Reinhardt answers, noticing that his honesty isn't always a good thing as worry crosses over Jack's face again. He sits down onto the chair next to the on Jack is sitting on. The younger man inhales and exhales deeply, a sound as if he's trying to hold back a potential breakdown, distressed. His eyes are focusing on his hands, hands that are still trembling. “Jack. If you're able to … tell me what happened.”

Jack blinks a few times, before he turns his head sideways, returning Reinhardt's gaze with a blank stare. “I'm still not sure. We landed after the crash and then … we were surrounded by these omnics. Only had our pistols, bad choice against these tin cans, as Gabe – Gabriel would call 'em.” Jack releases a short laughter but it's heavy and crushing. “We took them out nevertheless. But something was different. One of them started something. A countdown. Blew itself to bits and pieces within seconds. Gabriel threw himself over me, protected me. The parts tore right through his vest, through his skin, his blood wouldn't stop flowing –” he breaks off for a second there. “I know it won't kill him. And I know that I'm a soldier. That I should be used to this shit, have seen it plenty of times. Shit that's much worse. And yet,” his eyes shift back to his hands, still shaking. “It was his blood on my hands. Literally and figuratively. I can't bear that. Not ever.” 

Reinhardt searches for words of consolation, thinks about telling Jack that what Gabriel did is what you do for a comrade, for a friend. But the way Jack talks, the hurt and panic still remaining in his voice – he isn't sure if the term friend suffices anymore. Lucky for him, a doctor approaches them – the one that has been operating on Gabriel for nearly two hours now.

A couple of medical terms that neither Reinhardt nor Jack understood – judging from the younger man's expression – later, they're allowed into Gabriel's room. Visiting hours should be long over, considering its past midnight, but it's not the first time hospitals make exceptions for them thanks to Overwatch's ever present nature in the ongoing war. Gabriel is still unconscious but stable, lying on the bed in hospital clothing. Even like this he looks like a stubborn mule, Reinhardt thinks and he's not at all surprised as Jack eagerly takes one of the two chairs stairs standing at the side of the room and places it next to Gabriel's bed. Jack bites down on his lower lip, concern but also relief visible on his face. He turns to Reinhardt. “Thank you for sticking around, Reinhardt. You should get some rest now.”

“It is no problem, really. We shall both try to sleep,” Reinhardt replies, grabbing the other chair and positioning it to sit down next to the wide window, across of Jack. The younger man looks at him with that sincere smile of his, a little held back this time around but honest as ever. It's confirmation enough for Reinhardt that he can close his eyes. 

Reinhardt wakes back up when the moon's twilight still shines in from behind him. With heavy eyes he catches a glimpse of Jack whose hands are cupping one of Gabriel's, holding onto it and placing fleeting kisses on it every once in a while. His right hand's fingers intertwine with Gabriel's fingers as his other hand leaves to press its index-finger to Gabriel's lips, tracing over them and soon over the little scars spread across Gabriel's cheeks and nose, touches tender. “How many more of these will you get because you try to play the hero?” Jack asks but his voice is light and the edges of his lips curl upwards slowly but certainly. His fingers then brush through Gabriel's thick locks like they did earlier that day. 

“Depends on how often you'll need saving,” Gabriel replies and Reinhardt almost thinks he's dreaming, taken back that Reyes is already awake. His voice sounds weak and hoarse though and a grunt leaves his mouth as he tries to shift in the bed. “This fuckin' hurts.”

Jack chuckles but squeezes the other's hand in his own, as if he's scared to let go. He probably is, Reinhardt thinks. “The doctor said you'll be out in a week. The splinters were deep but small. Reinhardt called it a mess. But I guess that's the price you gotta pay for being a hero.” 

“I don't mind paying that price if I can keep your ass save with it,” Gabriel says and warmth is all across his face, something that Reinhardt has never seen on his commander's face; a smile that rivals Jack's trademark smile, with brown eyes glowing so bright and fond in the moonlight. “Told you several times. I won't let anything happen to you, ever, no matter the price.” 

The expression on Jack's face is soft and he closes his eyes for a moment there, lets the words sink in like they mean the world to him, like Gabriel means the world to him. He probably does, Reinhardt thinks again. “And I won't let anything happen to you. Well, except maybe this once.”

Gabriel laughs at that but interrupts himself with a low whine. “This really fuckin' hurts. I think a kiss would help my recovery significantly.” 

Jack snorts, his hand that is still buried in Gabriel's dark locks travelling back to his face, pinching his cheeks softly. The younger of the two seemingly gives in nevertheless, leaning over the bed. And before lips collide, Reinhardt closes his eyes. 

He's taken enough privacy of Reyes and Morrison for today, of two friends. Two very good friends.


End file.
